The First Choice
by elderwood
Summary: Now that Ron's got a date to the dance, what about Harry?  Part of the "Dances with Dunces" story set. See author profile for recommended reading order.


_Note: This story is part of the _Dances with Dunces_ story set, though it may be enjoyed separately. Visit_ my profile page for recommended reading order.___  
><em>The asterisk (*) marks something that refers to a detail from another story in the set.<em>  
><em>

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><p><strong>THE FIRST CHOICE<strong>

Harry blew at the hair falling over his forehead, and tried to imagine the scene his history book was trying to describe. There was a bit too much politics for his liking, so he was relieved when he was distracted by a soft _flump_ to his side. It was Ron. He had thrown himself backwards on the sofa, looking exhausted. "I can't concentrate," he said needlessly, dropping his quill on top of a mostly blank sheaf of parchment.

"No surprise there. This is the most study we've ever done in one sitting, at least without Hermione here," Harry replied, returning to his book and plucking at the dog-eared corner. "She'll be back soon from McGonagall, and she'll put you back in the mood for study."

"Doubt it," Harry heard Ron mumble. Something about the way he said it drew Harry's attention. Was it the sigh that preceded it, the hopeless way he said it, or both? Harry turned to his friend and was surprised to see that he was grinning stupidly at the high ceiling. Ron sighed again. "Hermione," he said to the ceiling. Harry shot a quizzical look as Ron propped himself up on his elbows, wearing a nervous smile only a person who had good news could manage. "She kissed me, just before."

Harry's feelings mirrored Ron's and he smiled just as widely, "Just before?"

Ron sat up, and Harry, straighter; this was a far more interesting topic than The Hag Uprising Of 1442. "By the mossy boulder," Ron nodded, "who would've believed it, eh? Hermione kissing _me_!"*

"And you didn't feel weird after or anything?" Harry asked tentatively, hoping to learn a little something. His first meaningful kiss was yet to come and he was anxious to prepare himself for any awkwardness should the moment arrive. It looked like Ron had been fortunate enough to escape any awkwardness; there were no reddened ears as he spoke of the kiss, only excitement and a little pride. Ron tilted his head with a thoughtful smile, "The only weird thing was that I _didn't_ feel weird after." He shrugged. "It was like... nothing. I mean, it was _something_. It was a _huge_ something, but, I don't know. It just felt..." He cast his eyes around the room, as if certain the fitting word was hidden in the fireplace or under a wing-back chair.

"Natural?" Harry suggested.

Ron's eyes widened as though the word was a revelation. "Yeah! Natural. _Natural_," he recited softly, as though trying the word on for size. Harry smiled privately at Ron's happiness. He knew Ron had always had secret feelings for Hermione, even when he didn't know it himself. Harry hoped he would find someone eventually who would allow him to feel that euphoric glow that Ron was fortunate to own at that moment. Vaguely, he felt that that person was Cho.

For a long time, Ron sat there, staring into space with the same silly grin. Harry chuckled to himself and turned back to his reading. After a while, he was disturbed again by an exasperated groan. He saw Ron cover his face with his hands. "Harry," he whimpered. "You've got to help me."

"What is it?" asked Harry, a little alarmed at the sudden change in expression.

"I can't study when I keep thinking about her!" exclaimed Ron, and Harry could only laugh. "I can't believe this!" Ron continued fretfully, a hand in his hair, "of all times, it had to happen before our OWLs!"

"Ironic," Harry began flippantly, grinning, "how the one person who can whip you into studying is now the one stopping you."

Ron stared at him with an unusually somber expression, "Harry, that's not helping matters much."

"Sorry. I suppose this means you'll be taking her to the dance then?"

Ron nodded. "I guess. Hey, who are you taking?"

Harry's expression turned morose. "I don't know." He told Ron about how he had approached Cho at the stone table less than an hour ago to ask her.* He had been turned down a second time by her, but - and he didn't share this with Ron - what hurt the most was the fact that, when he asked her who she was going with, she had told him no one yet. What was it about Harry that Cho found so unacceptable? He didn't think he was altogether ugly or stupid. Maybe it was just because he was a year younger than she, but Harry refused to believe she could be so superficial.

Ron sighed sympathetically at his friend. "What about Parvati?"

Harry shook his head. "After the Yule Ball that time?"

"Lavender?" Ron suggested.

"I think she's going with Seamus."

"Again? Tell you what, I think those two have something going."

It seemed hopeless. All the girls in their year seemed to already have dates, otherwise, they were girls Harry didn't particularly want to go with. He couldn't believe his rotten luck. Harry Potter, Mr Celebrity, He Who Conquered The Dark Lord, couldn't find himself a date for the dance! Maybe he was being too picky. A few girls had asked him, but the case was either he didn't know them or he didn't _want_ to know them (a pretty Slytherin girl cornered him one day, but he was too paranoid that she was being put up to it by Malfoy he couldn't agree).

One night, the following week, with OWLs and the dance just round the corner and still no date, Harry began to consider staying in the dormitory during the dance. Ron had tried to convince him to attend with him and Hermione, but he had turned down the offer without explanation. In truth, he didn't want to be a third wheel. He was sure it was something he would not be able to escape soon, but volunteering to tag along with them to the dance? He just couldn't go there. Harry folded his arms; the night had quickly cooled into the dark of the following day, and the common room fire had settled gently into a glow surrounding the embers, emitting the odd pop and crack. Ron had long gone to bed, as had the rest of the house. Harry stared unseeingly into the fireplace, thinking, when he suddenly felt a presence near him.

It was Ginny. She had quietly taken a seat in one of the comfortable armchairs adjacent to his sofa and was staring at the embers as well. She seemed to be concentrating very hard. Harry returned his gaze to the fireplace, and for a while, both sat there in silence. Then, Ginny spoke, "Do you want to go to the dance with me?" It was barely louder than a whisper, certainly the pop and crackle of the fire were occasionally louder, but in the vast emptiness of the common room with the still air magnifying every sound, it was clear enough for Harry to make no mistake of the question.

He stared at her, scarcely believing she had asked him. Ginny, who had a celebrity crush on him, who would blush brighter than her hair when he spoke to her, who automatically turned into a bundle of clumsy nerves around him, asked him to the dance! It was something he never expected. To be honest, he hadn't considered her at all. To him, she was a younger student, a fan, his best friend's little sister. He was always flattered at her shyness and her crush on him of course, but he was mostly embarrassed, and embarrassed for her.

He must have been staring at her agape for a long time, because when she finally turned to face him, her face flushed red. But more than embarrassed, it looked like she was about to cry, as if realizing belatedly that she had actually asked him and regretting it. Harry didn't want to hurt her. He knew it had taken an enormous amount of courage for her to even _decide_ to ask him, and more so to do it.

He smiled warmly at her, "Okay."

Ginny couldn't seem to bring words around, she was thunderstruck. She didn't move at all, only her eyes followed his face as he got to his feet. "I'll meet you down here before the dance, then," he said. He thought she managed the slightest nod, and took the strangled squeak as a 'yes'. "Okay, good night," he said before heading towards the dormitory. He was glad he hadn't made her cry. But as he climbed the steps, his shoes clunking softly on the stone, in the common room behind him, he heard her burst into tears all the same.

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><p><em>Thanks for reading. Please review! <em>The Sweet Assumption_ (id:7386006) comes next._


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